Joan Watson (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
formersurgeon) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thecapitol2014-06-20 07:20 pm
formersurgeon) wrote in thecapitol2014-06-20 07:20 pm
Entry tags:
The Capitol giveth, and the Capitol taketh away.
Who| Joan and OPEN
What| Everything is terrible, and Joan deals as best she can.
Where| District 11 suites
When| After Joan's death in week 4 of the arena: when she wakes, and a couple days later.
Warnings/Notes| Death and angst.
I.
Joan woke with a quiet gasp.
She was alive. She hadn't been sure she would be.
She wasn't surprised that Sherlock wasn't with her. He had died at the Cornucopia, yet had not sent her any gifts in the Arena. There was some hope, she supposed, that he just hadn't been brought back yet. Both Sherlock and John had been brought back late after the last Arena. Maybe this was the same thing.
She didn't believe it.
She rolled onto her side, drew her knees to her chest, and stared at the wall. Trying to think. Why did they bring her back? Wouldn't it have just been easier not to? She had never towed the party line, had never ceased to criticize the Capitol. Were they keeping her here to threaten somebody else? Did they bring her back just to break her? Make an example out of her?
It didn't make sense. She latched onto the question, though, the question of why, and turned it over in her mind, over and over and over.
Because she had to think about something, something that was not Sherlock, or her father. Something that might actually have an answer.
She stared at the wall for a long time.
II.
Joan had to work.
She didn't had anything specific, nothing that was sufficiently cohesive to be a "case." But she knew that the Capitol's bright and shiny facade of lies hid a seething mass of corruption. And she knew that if she looked hard enough, close enough, she would find the cracks. She had to find the cracks.
She shut herself away in her room, and watched program after program, all kinds, life in the Capitol, life in the Districts, news programs and kids programs and reality programs. She didn't sleep, barely ate. She had to keep working, to figure this out, to find a weak spot.
If she stopped, she'd think of Sherlock, of Gabriel, of her father, of those dead and lost and suffering because of her. So she didn't stop.
What| Everything is terrible, and Joan deals as best she can.
Where| District 11 suites
When| After Joan's death in week 4 of the arena: when she wakes, and a couple days later.
Warnings/Notes| Death and angst.
I.
Joan woke with a quiet gasp.
She was alive. She hadn't been sure she would be.
She wasn't surprised that Sherlock wasn't with her. He had died at the Cornucopia, yet had not sent her any gifts in the Arena. There was some hope, she supposed, that he just hadn't been brought back yet. Both Sherlock and John had been brought back late after the last Arena. Maybe this was the same thing.
She didn't believe it.
She rolled onto her side, drew her knees to her chest, and stared at the wall. Trying to think. Why did they bring her back? Wouldn't it have just been easier not to? She had never towed the party line, had never ceased to criticize the Capitol. Were they keeping her here to threaten somebody else? Did they bring her back just to break her? Make an example out of her?
It didn't make sense. She latched onto the question, though, the question of why, and turned it over in her mind, over and over and over.
Because she had to think about something, something that was not Sherlock, or her father. Something that might actually have an answer.
She stared at the wall for a long time.
II.
Joan had to work.
She didn't had anything specific, nothing that was sufficiently cohesive to be a "case." But she knew that the Capitol's bright and shiny facade of lies hid a seething mass of corruption. And she knew that if she looked hard enough, close enough, she would find the cracks. She had to find the cracks.
She shut herself away in her room, and watched program after program, all kinds, life in the Capitol, life in the Districts, news programs and kids programs and reality programs. She didn't sleep, barely ate. She had to keep working, to figure this out, to find a weak spot.
If she stopped, she'd think of Sherlock, of Gabriel, of her father, of those dead and lost and suffering because of her. So she didn't stop.